Watch Over Me
by Francienyc
Summary: Lucy follows Peter into battle. Edmund is at home with an injury, and as Susan says Peter watches over all of Narnia, but who will watch over Peter? Lucy vows to do so.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Well, here's my first stab at writing something action oriented. This story was inspired by Lucy riding to war with Edmund in The Horse and His Boy--I always wondered how she earned that. It comes from the fact that there are very few stories in the Narnia fanfic world where the girls get any of the action. Comments, questions, and suggestions are solicited._

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The courtyard of Cair Paravel was full of the bustle and clanging of the troops preparing to depart. It was a somber scene looking into all those faces grim with preparation, and Lucy could see why Susan was getting choked up. She wasn't going to cry, though. She set her jaw. She was going to do something.

"Stay with me, Lucy," Susan said, putting an arm around her younger sister's shoulders. "Stay with me until they ride off."

Lucy sighed. She couldn't leave her sister alone like that, but she needed to go. She had a horse to get ready and she had to check if her horse was ready. She made her resolution quickly. She would stay with Susan, and then run off as soon as she could. Edmund had been teaching her tracking, and she figured it would be easy enough to follow the noisy and obvious trail of an army.

They stood at the top of the steps and watched Peter move among the troops. He was dressed in travel clothes, not armor, but he wore his crown and carried his sword and shield. His horse was at the front of the column with that of the standard bearer beside it. The wind picked up and spread out the flag of Narnia, a glittering gold lion on a deep crimson background. When Susan saw this, she began to cry. Lucy touched her arm.

"I worry so much about him riding off alone. He doesn't even have Edmund with him this time. He watches over all of Narnia, but who will watch over Peter?" she said, trying to compose herself a little and failing.

Lucy only held her sister's hand. She didn't say anything for fear of revealing the plan Susan would surely disapprove of. The truth was Susan was absolutely right: Peter needed someone to watch out for him. If he was going to be stubborn and not let Lucy use her cordial to heal Edmund, then she would make sure someone went. She would make sure Peter was okay.

In the moments where she turned her attention to Susan, Peter had found his way to them. "Don't cry, Su," he said, embracing her.

She cried into his shoulder. "Can't you send a sortie? Can't you stay behind this once?" she begged.

He pulled away a little. "No," he said gravely. "You know that we must all do our duties for Narnia. This is mine. I must ride out with them."

"But you'll be all alone!" Susan protested with a very unladylike but very sincere sniff.

"Alone! I have an entire battalion with me and General Oreius, who has proven more than once he would rather disobey orders and lay down his life for me than let me come to harm. It's a small skirmish, the very last of the Witch's army. I'll be fine, Susan."

She pressed her lips together and said nothing further. Both girls knew that patient resolution in Peter's voice. His mind was made up, and he was now immoveable. Lucy had already known this; she had known it since Peter forbade her from helping Edmund heal from his injury with the cordial. "He'll be fine on his own," he had said. "We don't want to waste that." When he had left the room, Edmund had observed "I think he's secretly glad I'm hurt so I can't go with him this time. Blast him! I bet he sabotaged me," and Lucy had agreed wholeheartedly, saving the bit about sabotage.

Peter hugged Susan once more and kissed her on the cheek. "Cheer up, Su. I'll be home before you know it."

Then he embraced Lucy. "Be a comfort to Susan," he charged her quietly. "Don't let her worry too much. Let her plan one of her grand parties for when I get back. That should distract her a bit. Okay?" He drew back a little, but kept his hands on her shoulders. Lucy nodded. "I'll miss you, Lucy. Take care of yourself."

The trumpets sounded, and Peter turned around. "We're ready. Say goodbye to Edmund for me. I'll see you soon," he said.

He was at the bottom of the steps before Susan found her voice to sing. She always sang him goodbye, always the same song, a beautiful tune that was not Narnian but one that Lucy could never quite place. She sang clearly and poignantly, and Peter half turned to her and picked up the chorus. He smiled as he sang, and as he made his way to his horse he looked back at them frequently. It was all Susan could do to keep singing, and Lucy understood. She wanted to cry herself as she heard them singing to each other "I know we'll meet again some sunny day." She wondered sometimes if Peter knew how dear he was to them. She watched his broad shoulders, the muscles stretching his shirt as he moved with powerful grace, his golden hair matching the glittering crown on his head, and she saw the boy who she had known all her life, who had sneezing fits if he ate too much pepper. She clenched her fists at her side and vowed that she would not let him come to harm.

Peter mounted his horse and drew his sword. The trumpets blared and the troops cried out throatily. Lucy blinked at all the armor shining in the sunlight. Then with a lurch the column started, and Peter led them out the castle gate. By this time Susan was crying in earnest, the way she cried with silent tears that threatened to choke her. Before the column was entirely out of sight, Mrs. Beaver came to distract Susan, and Lucy took advantage of the moment to dash to the stables. She couldn't bear the waiting anymore; she had to do something.

Edmund was waiting, leaning on a cane. Lucy winced to see him standing like an old man because of the pain in his side. She wanted to help him with the cordial, but she didn't have the heart to directly disobey Peter. She promised herself she would learn other ways to heal people without having to resort to the potion.

"Is everything all ready?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Set to go. Only the armor isn't packed—I wanted to make sure you knew how to put it on."

Lucy frowned. This was very serious. "Do I really need it?"

"Are you mad? I do stupid things sometimes, but even I wouldn't be as foolish as to ride into battle with no armor! You'd be run through in half a minute!" He shuddered at the thought, but he shook it off. "Good thing I thought to bring these as well," he added, tossing a pile of fabric at her.

"What is it?" Lucy asked.

Edmund rolled his eyes. "A tunic and breeches. Did you think you were going to fight in a dress? I swear, girls are so impractical."

Lucy was too intrigued by the costume change to retort. She slipped into an empty stall and swapped clothes. When she came out, she handed Edmund her balled-up dress.

He nodded approval. "Now the armor."

At first she was all at odds. There were so many pieces and buckles and straps she didn't know what to do. But Edmund, though he made fun of her, was a good teacher, and soon she was able to do everything herself. "This armor is good luck," he said as he checked to make sure everything was correctly buckled. "I wore it at Beruna."

Lucy looked down at the gleaming armor and smiled.

Edmund gave her some final instructions. "Don't use the sword—you wouldn't know what to do with it. Wear the shield on your back while you're using the bow. There's two quiverfuls of arrows and extra strings. Try not to get in the thick of things, but if you do, use your dagger and remember what I taught you about blocking with the shield so you don't get your wrist broken. Above all, don't let Peter see you."

"I won't," she promised. "Did you pack the cordial?"

"It's in the saddle bag. Hopefully you won't need it. You'll see—Peter is charmed in battle; he hardly ever gets seriously wounded. He's so heedless of himself, though, I know it's going to happen sooner or later. I'm glad you're going."

Lucy got up on the horse. "Don't tell Susan I've gone."

"Don't worry. I'll play ill and let her mother me like she always wants to. That should keep her distracted enough." He grimaced, then looked up at her with bright eyes. "Good luck, Lu," he said "The Lion be with you."

She started to feel so excited she couldn't breathe or speak. She looked at Edmund; he gave the horse's flank a slap and they were gone. As she reached the gate she looked back over her shoulder and saw that he hadn't gone inside but was watching him. She raised her hand to wave, and he waved back. Then she galloped off.

The road following the army was easy but lonely. They had to take the obvious roads because there were so many, and Lucy had no problems following the tracks. It had been easy, just as Edmund said. Only there was no one to talk to. Many times when she was curling up by herself under a blanket in the lonely woods she wished she was back at Cair Paravel, helping Susan take care of Edmund and walking with Mr. Tumnus. But then she forced herself to think of Peter, who probably felt alone in the midst of an army, who needed her help, and she resolved to go on. She did not even let herself think how stiff she was when she got up in the morning, or how sore she was from riding all day.

She awoke on the third morning and remembered that Peter had said they expected to run into the enemies after three days. She put on her brother's armor, all the buckles and belts and straps, and she rode on. Late in the morning she heard the noise of battle. It was an awful roar at first, but as she drew closer she could distinguish the separate sounds: the blaring of horns, the fearsome growls of the enemy, the battle cries of the Narnians raised up in loud voices, and the harsh crashing of metal against metal as the two armies fought it out. Worst of all were the screams and cries of pain.

As Lucy urged her horse onward she thought that nothing could be worse than hearing those screams, but when she came to the crest of the ridge she saw that she was horribly wrong. There was blood everywhere. Every Narnian to the last man was engaged in a fight for his life. She saw a dwarf go down, then a faun got knocked across the face with the butt of a spear. She thought he looked like Tumnus, and she shuddered. Someone was friends with that faun. Someone was waiting for him to come back. Now who knows if he would?

She was about to rush forward with her cordial when she caught sight of Peter. He was in the middle of everything, slashing and stabbing desperately with his sword. There were enemies all around him, and more seemed to close in. Only a few Narnian soldiers kept him from being completely overcome. She wondered why Orieus wasn't at her brother's side, and then she saw that he was a little ways away fighting for his own life. Peter wasn't hurt, though, and he was still fighting with a strength and tenacity that impressed Lucy even in that dark moment.

Then there was a great rumble which shook her even where she stood. She turned and saw three giants stomping through the battle, swinging awful spiked clubs to dispatch any Narnians that got in their way. Lucy saw a centaur and a satyr go flying before she had to hide her face. The giants kept advancing—she could tell by the vibrations in the ground, and when she forced herself to look again she saw that they were headed straight for Peter. She waited for him to turn around and see them and do something, but he didn't. He was fighting a minotaur. He couldn't win the duel. The giants were getting closer and closer with each of their long strides, and Lucy could see Peter flying just the way all the other Narnians were being dispatched.

She knew what she had to do. She didn't waste a moment dismounting and stringing her bow. She fitted the arrow to the string and, trying to remember everything Susan had ever taught her about marksmanship, she let it fly.

Her arrow caught one of the giants in the neck. It must have hit an artery for blood exploded from the wound. He choked and lurched into another of the giants, and they fell together. The second one hit his head on something on the ground—it might have been a centaur's armed body—and his skull cracked open. Blood and brains spilled all over the ground, running thick together in a glutinous stream which covered the warring troops. Lucy doubled over, willing herself not to vomit.

When she was able to stand upright she saw that a battalion of the enemy had broken away from the main battle and was charging at the ridge where she stood—charging at her. The giant was pointing in the rear, and the captain led the charge. She was frozen. Did she have time to flee? Could she outrun them now? Was it better to stand and fight? Could she? Edmund had told her over and over again: "There is a fear that overtakes you when you are faced with battle. Don't be a fool and think it won't get you. It gets everyone. When you see those clubs and swords all raised at you and a hundred men rush in your direction, you will be paralyzed. You must find a way to fight it. Whatever it takes, Lucy. If you find yourself in battle, remember you have to conquer that fear."

Lucy thought of Edmund's words, and she still couldn't move. She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe this was all a nightmare. Before her eyes were shut for a few seconds she saw in her mind's eye the Great Lion, and she heard his roar. An arrow whizzed by her ear. She thought of her shield but realized she could make better use of her bow. She fitted an arrow to the string and felled that archer, and another. She brought down the other giant.

But still others were rushing at her, more than she could count. She was shooting as fast as she could and hitting a target more often than not, but she couldn't get them all. They were going to overtake her. She knew she couldn't run.

She slung the bow over her should and fitted the shield on her arm. Though Edmund said she wouldn't be able to make much use of it, she drew the sword. Perhaps she wasn't good at swordplay, but she might be able to get in one good thrust, like Peter did with the wolf. He had killed the wolf and he had barely even held a sword before that. Maybe Aslan would give her the same kind of luck. They were very close now. She stood her ground, even though she wanted to flee.

They were upon her with a ferocious cry, but Lucy thought grimly that she had heard worse the night they killed Aslan. "They didn't win then and they won't win now," she told herself. "Not without a fight." She lunged forward with her sword. The ogre she was hoping to take down laughed.

"The little king doesn't know how to use his sword!" he cried, and with a flick of his wrist he sent her sword flying. She drew her dagger, but she realized now how little she knew about the art of battle. And they were all around her. The ogre saw the terror in her eyes and he laughed again. "Only three thrones with monarchs now!" he taunted, and lifted his ax above his head.

Lucy saw her split second opportunity and stabbed him in the gut where his chain mail lifted. It was a good hit; he fell. Twenty more were behind him. Lucy knew now that she was lost. She ducked behind her shield and prayed to Aslan. She stabbed at what she could reach, and that kept them at bay for a moment or two, but she was sure it would soon be over.

Then she heard him scream "Lucy! LUCY!" and suddenly Peter was next to her. He had cleared a path through the enemies to get to her. When they saw Peter, they all took a step or two back and seemed to hesitate. Lucy dared to peek from behind her shield and saw that they regarded her brother as a fell warrior. "Are you alright?" he demanded, brandishing his sword.

She couldn't speak. She could only stare at him. She wanted to cry. Peter looked beautiful to her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked with urgency as he smacked an advancing minoboar with his shield. "There's blood all over you!"

"It's not mine," she breathed. "Peter, I—"

"Put that shield away and draw your bow. Fight with your back to me. Hurry, Lucy, there's no time!" Peter commanded in such a voice that Lucy swallowed her tears and obeyed at once.

Lucy felt better with Peter there. She thought she might survive now, if he protected her, and she remembered what she came for. He was with her; she could watch over him. They bumped into each other often, and that contact gave Lucy some encouragement.

Eventually she had to call to him "Peter, I'm out of arrows!"

"Then draw your dagger and fight as best you can. Don't leave my side."

"I won't," Lucy vowed.

"And make use of your shield!" Peter reminded her as he ducked under his.

Now Peter was shouting directions at her over his shoulder. Lucy felt a little stronger with his guidance, but it seemed they had been fighting forever and she wondered how long she could keep this up. She felt herself growing tired. Her movements were less forceful, her reactions slower.

"Lucy, come on!" Peter called to her. "Find your strength! We cannot give up!"

Lucy gritted her teeth and willed herself to find the energy she had left. She felt the heavy breath of an ogre beside her, and before she could turn she heard him fall to the ground. She twisted around to thank Peter and saw that a minotaur wielding a huge mace was advancing upon him. He was too busy finishing off the ogre to notice. She tried to do something, but it was too late. The minotaur swung the mace and tore a gash in the chain mail on Peter's arm. He hissed in pain as the metal connected. An ogre saw the moment and slashed at Peter's arm with an ax. Now Peter cried out. Lucy moved to grab her cordial, but he shouted, "There's no time! Fight for your life, Lucy! Don't stop. Do you hear me? Don't stop fighting!"

Lucy obeyed, even though she could feel Peter's blood seeping through her own chain mail. She forced herself not to think of it. Peter was still awake. He was still fighting. Maybe the rest of the army would make it to them in time. Surely General Oreius would see that Peter was missing. Surely Aslan was with them.

"Lucy, do whatever you can to get out of this alive!" Peter said, and she thought his voice sounded strange. Then she felt him go down.

"NO!" she screamed. "Peter!" She would not mourn him. She didn't know if he was dead or alive—surely he couldn't be dead—but she knew what she had to do. She wheeled around with her dagger and stared into all the malice of her enemies' eyes. She fought as hard as she could. Then her arm was crushed with another blow from the mace and she sank to her knees. She knew they would move in for the kill. She gathered Peter close to her and hid under the shield. "If we can just hold out until they come to help." She thought she heard the horns. That must have been it. They must be coming.

Enemies were closing in, hammering on the shield. She dared to peek over the edge once and saw the minotaur winding his mace. She ducked quickly behind it again and made sure Peter's head was protected by her body. She didn't protect her own head. The mace hit the shield with such force that it knocked Lucy in the head. She blinked and saw stars. She fought to remain conscious. "I will protect Peter. I will," she murmured, but the haze in her head was growing to strong. The blackness was creeping up on her. She knew she was lost, and probably Peter too. "I have done the best I could for him. Maybe Aslan will still let me into his country and I will see Peter there too." Then the cloud obscured everything, and she knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Well, this was a long time coming! Sorry to have left you guys in such suspense, but of course you knew Peter and Lucy were okay...right? Here's their fate in black and white._

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When Lucy awoke she had the strange feeling of being comfortable. This wasn't right. It was too quiet. Where was the noise, the heat? Where was…

"Peter!" she shouted, sitting bolt upright in bed. Immediately, four pairs of hands tried to force her back down.

"You need rest your Majesty," a grave voice said. She understood she was with the centaur healers.

"Where is the High King? Is he safe?" Lucy demanded, looking into the face of the centaur who spoke.

"Your Majesty must calm down," said another of the centaurs.

"I command you to tell me where he is!" she cried fiercely. "Where is my brother?"

The first centaur sighed. "He is being cared for in the next tent. General Oreius is watching over the healers caring for him."

Lucy leapt out of bed and ran through the tent flaps. She looked around at all the tents facing her for a second and wondered which to look in first, for of course she would search each one until she found him and saw with her own eyes that he was safe.

As it turned out, she did not have to start investigating, for Peter himself emerged from the tent opposite her. He walked to her with brisk strides, and Lucy ran to meet him halfway. She was going to vault into his arms, but he held out his arm between them. She saw that he was holding her cordial.

"Take this," he growled, "And mount your horse." He turned to a nearby faun. "See to it that her Majesty's armor is packed and returns with the army. I leave the company to General Oreius. My sister and I ride ahead." With that, he grabbed Lucy forcefully by the upper arm and led her to her horse. "Get up."

Lucy obeyed. "Peter, I don't understand," she said. "How did we get out alive? You were unconscious, and there were enemies all around…"

Peter lowered his head and gave a prolonged sniff which told Lucy he was trying not to cry. When he spoke, though, he was as stern as she ever saw him. "Oreius saw we were in trouble and led the charge. The battle was over shortly after he rescued us. We must thank Aslan for the victory—for it was certainly not thanks to me. They used the cordial to heal us. Two drops wasted."

"Not wasted!" Lucy protested, encouraged somewhat by the sniff. "Not if it helped you."

He looked at her and his eyes were cold. He swung up on his horse without another word. Lucy urged hers forward so she was trotting next to him, but he didn't turn to look at her or even acknowledge she was there.

When Peter stopped to make camp for the night he still hadn't said anything to her, and Lucy was a little frightened by this. She had never seen Peter act so cold, certainly not towards her. He prepared a fire and a meal in silence, and all the features in his face were hard. Lucy wanted nothing more than to crawl into Peter's arms for comfort, but this stern soldier before her wasn't her brother. She curled up for the night feeling very blank inside. As she lay her head down she saw him looking at her. She couldn't read his expression; it was unfathomable, as adults are. She could see different things flickering in his eyes, and in half a minute she thought she saw fury and disappointment and sorrow and guilt. It was more than she could comprehend, and she had to shut her eyes to it. She fell into an uneasy sleep.

The ride the next day was exactly the same, and Lucy began to feel swallowed up by the loneliness of it. On the ride out, she had cheered herself with the thought that she would be with Peter soon. Now she was with him, but there was little comfort in that. She started to realize also that she felt different from the girl who had ridden this road in the opposite direction. She had changed; she could feel that deep inside her. As with most things she understood, it wasn't something she could explain or justify, it was just something she knew.

Late in the afternoon they reached the castle gates. There was no welcome party to greet them, but if Peter noticed, he said nothing. He got off his horse, and Lucy did the same. He passed the reins of both horses to a waiting groom and marched Lucy into the castle. He was taking long, swift strides, and Lucy had to jog to keep up.

He opened the door of the Great Hall with a bang, and at the other end, Lucy could see Edmund and Susan jump at the sound. When she saw them she felt herself tearing up.

Susan rose and ran to meet them halfway. "Lucy! What madness!" She hugged her tightly.

"Do not be too gentle with her, Susan. She doesn't deserve it," Peter said. Lucy realized he spoke for the first time since they had left the camp.

"Don't be so harsh," Susan remonstrated, stroking Lucy's hair. Lucy didn't think she could bear it anymore. She squeezed a couple of tears out of her eyes and buried her head in Susan's shoulder.

"If I am harsh, it is only because I need to be," Peter answered. As he spoke he grabbed the hood of Lucy's cloak and pulled her from Susan. He walked her the rest of the way down the hall and nearly threw her into her throne.

"Really Peter!" Edmund exclaimed.

Peter turned to Edmund slowly, but he was shaking with anger. "Do you dare defend her? I know you had a hand in this—she never would have stolen your armor. Was this a gift? Did you think you would make a present of weapons of war?"

Edmund's cheeks flushed. "Sod off. Where do you get off acting so high and mighty? If I recall correctly, you receive weapons as a gift yourself."

"That," Peter said with gravity, "Was different."

"Say that it was. Lucy was given a weapon just the same as you. She had every right to go."

"What do you know about it? You weren't even there! Father Christmas gave her that dagger to be used only in the greatest need. She was never meant to go seeking battles!"

"I only wanted to help you!" Lucy cried.

Peter wheeled on her. "Help me? _Help_ me? Tell me, Lucy—how exactly did you help?"

This was more than Lucy could bear, and the tears started to run down her cheeks. "You didn't see those giants! They were coming right for you and you didn't even turn. You would have died, Peter!"

Here Susan gave a strangled gasp.

Peter looked to her. "She doesn't know what she's talking about," he said gruffly. "Everything was going fine, exactly according to Edmund's plan."

"What do you mean by _fine_?" Lucy demanded. "Narnians were dying everywhere! I saw the giants send at least ten of them flying. Who knows where they landed—that poor faun, and the leopard..."

"That shows how little you know about battle," Peter spat. "When I say fine, I mean fine. There is no battle without bloodshed on both parts."

"Yet we didn't plan for any giants," Edmund mused barely above a whisper.

Peter stared at him agape, but before he could find words enough to express his rage, Susan spoke. "You're not defending her, are you, Edmund? This is such a terrible thing to do!" Here she shot a reproving glance at Lucy, who seemed to grow smaller in her throne.

Edmund looked at the ground for a full minute before raising his head to look both his older siblings in the face. "I am. I think Lucy has a right to go—I wouldn't have given her the armor otherwise. She wants to fight for Narnia, and for you. Who am I to stand in the way?"

Peter grew very red and took a step towards Edmund, pulling his fist back. He probably would have hit his brother had not Susan grabbed the arm he chose to swing. Feeling her touch, he contented himself with yelling "So you would sacrifice our sister like that? Let her be a martyr to Narnia? Let her die with a sword run through her or an arrow in her head or—" He did not even notice Susan wincing as he said these words.

Edmund raised his head and looked Peter in the eye. "You do the same for Narnia! What's the difference?"

Peter's eyes grew wide. "What's the difference? There's nothing else for me to do! My job, sometimes I feel like my sole job, is to defend this country and all of you. If Narnia lost Lucy…" He trailed off and shook his head as if willing away tears. Susan made a soft noise and moved to hug him, but he kept her at arm's distance and willed himself to finish. "If we lost Lucy, where would we be? She's the best of all of us."

"But you didn't lose me, Peter. I'm here," Lucy said softly.

"Quite right," Edmund agreed. "She held her own in that battle, more than you and I can really say for ourselves at Beruna. That's impressive. Think about it, Peter. If we trained her, she could ride with the archers, she could help like she wants to, and if she knew what she was about, she might be quite fierce. She'd get it from you."

"So you're saying you want her to be like me?" Peter answered in a dangerously quiet voice. He was staring daggers at Edmund. Susan backed off a couple of paces.

"I want to be like you!" Lucy cried. "I want to save Narnia, I want to be there, I want to be brave…" She trailed off because of the look Peter was giving her.

He walked slowly to stand directly in front of her throne, looking down at her. Every muscle in his body was taut, and his jaw twitched. When he spoke, it was in a fierce whisper. "You want to kill? You want to know what it is to take someone's life from them, to send unnumbered souls to whatever life lies for them beyond this? You want to know what it is to have them haunting you? You want to know what it's like to plunge a weapon into someone and feel blood—_their_ blood—flow over your own hands, staining everything?" He trembled a little and turned away. "But I forgot. Now you know."

This time he let Susan comfort him, though he stood very still, his arms dangling at his sides while he rested his head on her shoulder. He looked defeated, and Lucy felt more afraid than she had on the battlefield.

Susan held Peter close but turned reproachful eyes to her sister. "How could you have done this, Lucy? Look at what you've done." She turned her attentions to Peter and murmured "It's alright. She's safe now. We'll make sure she doesn't do it again, you and I. It's partly my fault; I didn't watch her as I should have. I forgot my duty."

Lucy grew very red, and it is likely that the only reason she didn't do anything for a moment is because she was caught between screaming and sobbing. As she wavered, she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at Edmund, who was watching her steadily. She nodded, and tried to keep her composure.

For Peter's part, he drew away from Susan and looked round at them all. "That's only part of it, though," Peter said, and his voice was empty and his face was blank. "Yes she came home safe. Yes, she was brave. Yes, she held her own. But I failed. I was supposed to protect her from this. She has the cordial—_that's_ the gift she's meant to use. The dagger is only for greatest need. There was no need here." He looked Lucy straight in the eyes. "I would have given my life to prevent seeing what I saw on that battlefield. Bad enough Edmund knows what it is to kill, but you—" He shook his head and walked away, unable to say anymore. As he left the throne room, Edmund gave a low whistle.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter took his dinner in his chambers and did not appear for the rest of the day, not even when the army returned. Edmund heard Oreius' report alone, which confirmed what he had suspected: Lucy had indeed saved her brother's life. Peter hadn't planned for the giants, and they took the Narnians completely by surprise with devastating effects. He couldn't share Peter's deep regret at Lucy having "blood-stained hands" or what have you. Rather, he marveled at her steely courage. She was only a girl still, and she faced nearly a battalion of the enemy rushing her way. She stood her ground. After Oreius was gone, Edmund bit his lip and thought about it. He was proud of Lucy.

Susan came in the War Room just then. "Did Oreius tell you about the battle?" she asked timidly.

"Yes." Edmund's reply was cautious; he wanted to know what Susan was angling at before he gave more information.

She advanced and traced the council table's edge with her fingers. "Was it—was it as bad as Peter said?"

He shook his head. "It was as great as I imagined. She really saved his life, Susan, and she was marvelously brave."

"But you heard what Peter said! That's only part of it. I never thought about it before, but I quite agree." Tears shone in Susan's eyes.

"Haven't you realized, though, that Peter lives in a world of ideals? He wants to keep Lucy innocent, but he can't. She's growing up. She's brave and she's independent, and we all know that when she sets her mind to something she's as stubborn as he is. What makes him think he can preserve her as a child? She's a Queen."

The tears started to roll down Susan's cheeks. "She _is_ a child, though. She's our little Lucy."

"She's not so little anymore," Edmund scowled. "Is that what you say of me when you're talking to Peter? I'm your little Edmund?"

"No," she said, looking away.

Edmund made a noise of disgust at her lie. "Honestly. You're not our parents, you know."

"We're the closest thing you've got!" Susan cried. "We're supposed to take care of you."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "We can take care of ourselves." He turned on his heel and made to leave the room, but she grabbed his sleeve.

"Where are you going?" she asked fearfully.

"I'm going to talk to Peter. Someone's got to knock some sense into him. This bloody chivalry bit's gone too far."

"Don't you dare, Edmund! You saw how upset he was," she chided, even as he started toward the High King's chambers.

"You're not going to stop me, Susan. I've had enough of this mollycoddling."

"Mollycoddling! He wanted to stop her from _dying_, Edmund. That's hardly mollycoddling."

"It is when you're a King or Queen," Edmund returned without looking at her. He didn't slow down, and he was walking so fast and so purposefully that Susan was trotting to keep up.

Their argument continued all through the halls until Peter could hear their approach well before Edmund opened his door with a bang and announced "Look here, Peter. This is all ridiculous."

Peter stared at him a moment and turned away. "I'm not talking about this anymore."

"So you're just going to sit up here and sulk in your room and let Lucy be miserable when she hasn't done anything wrong! Get _off_, Susan!" He shook her off him.

Now she went to stand by Peter. "I've told him I think you were quite right," she said. "When I think of Lucy facing that army—"

"Don't" Peter began quite sharply, but he stopped and swallowed something so he was able to talk more normally. "Don't talk of that. You don't even know what it was like." He looked at Edmund. "Nor do _you_. You think it's fine to kit her up in armor and send her off to war. You didn't see what I saw."

Edmund folded his arms across his chest and looked at Peter impassively.

Peter left Susan's side and approached Edmund. He was talking as he came closer, speaking with that same low, quiet, dangerous voice he had used earlier. "You think it's as simple as all that. Oh, she was brave. Lucy's always brave, isn't she? But you know just as well as I that bravery only gets you so far. It doesn't prevent you from being wounded. I thought you would have learned that at Beruna. All of a sudden I feel the army moving and I turn to see them rushing towards a lone figure on the hill. For a split second I thought it was you, and even then my heart dropped. But there was a lock of hair hanging out of her helmet. The wind picked up and blew it like a banner, and I understood it wasn't my brother, who at least knows something about battle and using a sword, but Lucy. You would think that was the worst moment, seeing your sister as the target of a hundred enemies. They looked like they would swallow her up, tear her apart. And yet, that wasn't the worst part.

"I fought as hard as I could to get to Lucy. I can't even remember how I did it, really, all I know is that nothing could stand in my way. Nothing. Even when I got there, though, I feared it was too late. She was covered in blood, all her armor was splattered with it. I thought there must be a hundred wounds, I thought she would fall at any second, but she was still fighting. She told me she wasn't hurt, and I realized then that her bravery had served her. Lucy was covered in the blood of her enemies." His eyes were bright when he turned away from Edmund and started to pace. "I wanted to save her, to get her out of harm's way, but I wasn't strong enough. I knew the only way we could get out alive is if we fought together. So I became her captain. I schooled my sister in how to fight a battle. And then, after I had taught her the terrible skill I almost hate to know, I failed altogether. I was trying to save Lucy from an ogre, and a minotaur's mace caught my armor. Another ogre slashed at my arm. He must have hit a vein because blood was pouring out everywhere. I didn't hold out much longer. And then, after seeing my sister's innocence stripped away, after knowing that I failed to protect her in that, I went down with the knowledge that I had failed to so much as save her life. When I awoke, I didn't even know if she was alive, and the centaur healers told me I had been saying her name while I slept. So you see, Edmund, this is my worst nightmare come to life, and it could have been prevented if only Lucy had stayed home."

Susan was sobbing silently into her hands. Edmund appeared unmoved. He nodded, and he sighed, and he looked very serious, but his eyes were completely dry. "I suppose if we're going to play that game I could take some of the blame too. I was idiot enough to get hurt last time so that I couldn't go. Or, if the enemies had waited a week I could have gone with you—you see I'm well enough now."

"You don't understand, do you?" Peter exploded.

"No, I do," Edmund said. "None of us wants to see the others in peril like that. Do you honestly think it's sport for me to watch you gallop ahead of an army to meet the enemy head on? It's the worst thing I ever saw, even though I know how great a warrior you've become. Skill doesn't prevent swords from being sharp, and there have been several times where you've almost had your head lopped off altogether. The only thing that keeps me from falling apart at the sight is the knowledge that I have the power to help you. If you are only watching out for Narnia and us, that's fine, because I can take care of you. Haven't you noticed that I always plan the battles so we wind up fighting together? That's no accident. Lucy and I talked about it, and we agreed that someone's got to look after you."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. "What have you done to her for my sake? What has she done to herself? I'm not worth that."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "You are, though. That's the whole point. You said you would give your life to see Lucy safe and protected. You know that feeling, but you don't own it. She went out there with the same idea. She would give her life, and, if she thought about it, barter her innocence if she could save you in any way. That's exactly what she did. She loves you, you great git, and you're going to have to start to understand that you are not the only hero in this family."

Peter turned away and threw himself into an armchair. He wore a brooding, tortured sort of expression. Edmund shrugged his shoulders; this was no different from what he expected.

Susan touched Edmund's arm. "Go now," she said softly. "I'll take it from here."

He looked into her face and saw that she was not angry or upset. She, just like all the rest of them, was full of concern for Peter. "Please go check on Lucy," Susan said. "I'm still worried about her."

Edmund nodded and he left the room. Now he walked down the halls more meditatively. This was the part he wasn't good at. He could take on Peter's moodiness, and he could win a debate with any of his siblings, but comforting was really more Susan's department. There weren't two of her, though, and someone had to make sure Lucy was alright, so he squared his shoulders and knocked on her door.

When she bade him enter and Edmund pushed the door open he had to fight down a laugh. She was sitting on her little sofa in exactly the same attitude as Peter, wearing exactly the same expression. She gave a little sigh, though, and that reminded Edmund that if she was in the same position as Peter, she was equally as upset.

"Are you alright, Lu?" he asked awkwardly.

"No," she replied, and she started sobbing.

"Oh!" Edmund said, running to her side. "Um…there there," he added, patting her shoulder awkwardly. "It's alright."

Vague as this comfort was, it was enough for Lucy, and she flung her arms around his neck. "He hates me!"

"He doesn't. He couldn't. Really, Lu," he said quickly.

"Then why won't he come out? He can't even look at me, let alone talk to me. What have I done?"

Edmund sighed and sat her down on the couch. "You didn't do anything. It's all him."

"But I rode into battle—he said I shouldn't…" Lucy protested with an uncertain sniff.

"And why did he protest? You have every right to defend your country and your family, just as much as he does. But he's got this idea that he's got to watch over everyone and everything simultaneously. You weren't wrong. You saved his life, Lu, and from everything Oreius says, and from what I've cobbled together from Peter, you were pretty magnificent yourself."

She sniffed and smiled a little. "But what about Peter?"

Edmund sighed and stroked her hair a little awkwardly, trying to imitate what Susan would do. "He'll come around eventually. He just needs to get over himself."

Lucy laid down and stared off with glassy eyes. Edmund didn't know if he had entirely convinced her, but her expression was at least a little more restful and she wasn't crying. He considered it the best he could do, and he sat on the couch and watched Lucy until she drifted off to sleep and he fell asleep himself. A couple of hours later, he pulled her to her feet and got her into her own bed, then stumbled blearily down the hall to his room, but not before he gave her one quick kiss on the forehead.

* * *

_A/N: Still not the end! There's one more chapter, of course, because obviously Peter can't stay mad at Lucy forever._


	4. Chapter 4

Lucy awoke in the middle of the night, and she lay staring at the ceiling in the first confused moments of wakefulness. She didn't quite understand where she was, because the last thing she remembered was being on the couch. After a moment she remembered: Edmund had come in and he had comforted her. He must have helped her into bed. She smiled a little sadly. He was sweet to have comforted her, but she rather wished she didn't need it in the first place. She thought of Peter, and the look on his face, and she rolled onto her side to stare at the wall and try to fall back asleep.

Here she received a surprise. There was a figure sitting in the chair next to her bed. She gasped, but then her eyes adjusted to the wan moonlight, and she saw that it was Peter. He was watching her. She sat up at once.

"Peter!" she said, though her voice was still hoarse with sleepiness, "What are you doing here?"

He looked at his hands in his lap. "I wanted to make sure you were okay," he answered a little haltingly. "Are you?"

She nodded and bit her lip. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck, but she still wasn't sure if he was still mad at her.

He got up and sat on the edge of her bed and looked down at her. Her eyes were now fully adjusted to the light, and she could see that his eyes were very bright and he wore a tender expression. He reached out and pushed her hair off her forehead with a shaking hand.

Now Lucy sat up and flung her arms around him as she had wanted to do. She remembered when he came to save her in the battle and she thought he was beautiful, but now it seemed to her that he was even more so. He was getting older now, and the hair growing on his chin scratched her cheek. She rather liked that. It reminded her of when she was small and she would curl up with him after she had a nightmare and rested her cheek against the starchy cotton of his pajamas. She hugged him as tight as she could and tried very hard not cry.

"Lu," he said, and his voice was very hoarse. "I can't bear to lose you."

"You won't, Peter. You won't. I'll be safe. I've always got you to protect me," she whispered into his neck.

"But I didn't. You almost died. And if you had…" He shook his head and held on tighter to her.

She drew back and looked at him. "It doesn't work like that. It's not all or nothing, that either I watch out for you or you watch out for me. We take care of each other. We all do. That's how we got this far, isn't it?"

"But what you had to do…I never wanted you to have to kill. It's too terrible."

"Peter, do you think I ever wanted to see _you_ kill someone? You are so brave, and so strong, but you weren't ever meant to kill anyone. Not you or Edmund. But you do, to protect Narnia and us. And so I did, to protect you." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, brushing the tears away impatiently. "I hated it. I hated every moment of it, and I was so scared. But I set out to protect you, and I did." She shook her head. "I won't stop. I'll follow you every time I'm worried if I have to, even if it means disobeying you. You won't ever go alone."

Peter regarded her for a long moment, and Lucy bit her lip, worried that he might get angry again. His face remained impassive, and he got up and paced a bit at the foot of her bed. "I can't bear this. I can protect Narnia, and I'd gladly lay down my life for any of you. To think of you doing the same is too awful." Lucy opened her mouth, but Peter cut her off. "Yet I'm beginning to see I'm lucky enough to have you care about me the same way. Maybe it's not fair of me to say you can't come. Maybe…maybe none of us should go alone. Not you, or me, or Edmund, or Susan, if she ever fights."

Lucy nodded. "That's how we saved this country. We helped each other. And Aslan helped us."

He looked at her and nodded. Then after a long moment he said, "I brought you something," and he went over to the chair he had been sitting in and reached behind it. He withdrew a bow and a quiver of arrows, almost (but not quite) as fine as Susan's. "You'll be needing these the next time you ride off. To protect us. Perhaps that's what Father Christmas meant when he said you were only to fight in the greatest need." He sat down next to her and handed her the gifts.

Lucy looked at them fondly and put them aside in favor of cuddling up next to her brother. "I couldn't lose you. I couldn't, Peter," she said tearfully, resting her head on his shoulder.

He smiled a little and kissed her forehead. "You won't. Because I have you to watch over me."

* * *

_A/N: A short but sweet ending. I'm rather ambivalent on this. I like the way it ends, but I wonder if this ending needs "more" if you know what I mean. Therefore, if you can think of any improvements, particularly in terms of additions, please let me know. If you think this story is any good, also please let me know. I love reviews. They make me happy._  



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